


Real

by cherryistired



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: POV Second Person, Torture, also he hates him so, i guess, it's not like he meant to torture them he's just nuts, its a very complicated fic, s-sorta, the number of bendys fluctuates, there's actually 2 bendys, theres violence n death but its not v graphic, well kinda 2, well kinda 3, why can't i do things chornologically, why do I always start with the most interesting bits of my au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryistired/pseuds/cherryistired
Summary: I got inspired by something I heard in my comp class. This was the result.Skirt reminisces.(A part of an au I'm working on)





	Real

You had liked Mr. Drew, at first. He never really like you, but you had tried to be kind to him. There were only ever a few moments that he was kind to you, and only one of those you could hope was genuine. In the first few moments of your life, he looked at you with hope and wonder with what he had created, what he had made real. They were quickly overcome by frustration and anger. You didn’t know why then, why he hated you.

You know now, though.

Many of the others in the studio took some time to warm up to you. They had no idea what to think of a real Bendy. Susie instantly adored you. She loved to make things and give things to you. The first thing she gave you was the skirt. You still wear it. All the time.

The others took longer to come around. Mr. Polk still isn’t very comfortable talking to you, but you’ve learned to give him space when he needs it. Same with Mr. Lawrence, but he’ll let you stay longer with him if you need to. You’re polite to everyone, and most of the employees grew to really enjoy your company.

However hard you tried, though, you couldn’t seem to get Mr. Drew to like you. He never talked to you, save for the occasional “not right now” or “I’m busy.” You’d overhear him talk about you sometimes. Not that you meant to eavesdrop; you couldn’t help hearing things occasionally. He never called you Bendy, just that little demon or another diminutive. Once you overheard him at his desk, working and thinking aloud. He had called you “the mistake” then, even if you had convinced yourself that he hadn’t.

You never were allowed into his office, but you found excuses to enter anyways. You didn’t want to intrude on his work, you just wanted to help out others and possibly have an actual conversation with him. One time, you walked into his office, a stack of frames drawn by time-pressured animators as your excuse.

You wish you hadn’t.

When you entered, Mr. Drew was leaning over a large circle drawn on the floorboards with fresh ink. There were candles around the edge of the circle, and inside were lines that you couldn’t place the shape of but didn’t recognize. You learned that day that the shape was called a pentagram-and that you melted when you were afraid. You couldn’t understand what Mr. Drew was saying, but you were too focused on the inky shape in the middle of the circle slowly building a form to notice what he was saying anyways.

When you entered, your announcement of entering-cut short by the discovery of Mr. Drew’s actions-nonetheless broke his concentration. He stuttered, the candles went out all at once, and the inky form fell to the ground with a splat. Mr. Drew yelled at you for breaking his concentration-and for melting ink onto the frames-but said he wouldn’t punish you if you told no one what you had seen. You agreed and left in a hurry.

You only went in his office twice after that.

The first time was a few days after Mr. Drew turned off the Machine. It was sucking in too much power, he said. They had plenty of excess ink in his office anyways, and they didn’t need it constantly running. You were worried what this would mean for you, since you had to drink ink from the Machine almost daily to stay alive. Only you and Mr. Drew knew this at the time, and he had told you to keep it a secret when he first created you. Every time you asked him, however, he shrugged you off and didn’t answer you.

After a few days without fresh ink, your form began to destabilize, you felt tired and dizzy almost constantly, and you couldn’t see straight or stand up for too long. The other crewmembers grew very worried for you and brought you to Mr. Drew. He declared that he would do everything in his power to heal you.

It was the only time he ever used your real name.

As soon as you were alone with Mr. Drew in his office, his kind and caring mask dropped. He walked over to the pentagram, still looking fresh with ink, and began preparing a ritual. When you asked him if he was going to turn on the machine, he didn’t answer. When you asked again, a little louder this time, he paused and said no. He said he was going to let you die, and make a better Bendy. He was going to make a Bendy that stayed on model and in character and didn’t melt when he got scared or upset. He was going to make a real Bendy.

You were confused, and asked why would he make another Bendy, aren’t you the real Bendy? He turned to you, with more malice than you had seen before, and said,

“You are not the real Bendy. You are a mistake. A mistake I should have destroyed when I first created it.”

You didn’t say anything after that.

After a few minutes, he was finished preparing for whatever he was planning and left for the night. You were lucky enough that Wally decided to visit you that night. You managed to convince him that the only way to save him was to turn on the Machine and, when asked why Joey hadn’t turned it on himself, that Mr. Drew didn’t want to spend a lot of extra money turning off an on the machine but that you were worried he wasn’t going to be able to find an alternate solution in time. You hated lying to him, but you didn’t want to tell him what Mr. Drew had told you. He agreed, and you were able to quench your thirst. The crew was elated that you had recovered.

A few days later, Bendy walked out of Mr. Drew’s office.

He was the same as you-same face, same smile, same bowtie, same amount of wrong-but Mr. Drew seemed resigned to the new one’s current appearance. He did say, however, that it might take a few days for Bendy’s design to “set” and to not be surprised if it changed. Your design “set” immediately, but you had an idea of what he really meant by that. You kept Bendy away from his office for a few days.

As the days passed, Mr. Drew grew increasingly frustrated with you and Bendy. He started treating him like he treated you: ignoring him when he tried to talk to him and demeaning him when he wasn’t around. The other employees had also given you nicknames that infuriated Bendy to no end. They started calling you and him Skirt and Skort respectively, for the identical pink skirts Susie had made and given to you. You’re pretty sure Skort hates you for that. He doesn’t know what he was being protected from, he just knows that you took away his relationship with Mr. Drew and his name. You couldn’t really blame him for either, and you couldn’t really be upset at losing your name.

You never were the real Bendy anyways.

The last time you entered Mr. Drew’s office was the only time he ever asked you to enter. You were wary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. As you walked in, he still treated you strangely: almost nicely but with an unfamiliar undertone that you didn’t like. He told you to stand in a specific spot, and you did as he said. He placed candles that looked like they had never been light before on the floor near you, and you only noticed that he was placing them around you in a circle moments before the last candle was placed and their wicks simultaneously lit.

Then the pain hit.

It didn’t feel like other times when you had melted, when ink was passively falling off you either due to stress, fear, or malnourishment. No, this time it felt like it was being stripped away, and it _hurt_. After the flare of pain subsided, you crumpled to the floor and finally noticed the pentagram and chains made of your lost ink.

You pleaded with Mr. Drew, asking him why he was doing this, He said that it should be obvious, that he was going to make the real Bendy. He started to ramble about how he had approached it all wrong after he created you, his first success, riddled with flaws as you were. Everything he tried after creating you had failed. Then you dripped a bit of your ink into his work, when you were dying, and with that ink he was able to create Skort. After that, he realized that you were the key to his success. Your ink was alive-alive enough to create living beings, and he needed it.

So, he concluded, he was going to melt you down, and with your ink he was going to create the real Bendy.

After his rant, he began the ritual, ignoring your cries and pleas for mercy. He began chanting that strange language you had heard once before, and you began to dissolve.

In that moment, you hated him.

The moment I was created, you hated Joey Drew.

I was created in anger and desperation, and when I looked into Joey’s eyes I saw that same anger. The same anger that had been directed at you. Anger at another failure.

And so I killed him.

Everyone here at this studio, every single employee has treated you like this. Like a mistake. Not like the real Bendy. And rightly deserved, because you weren’t.

But I _am_.

I am the _real_ Bendy.

And I am going to prove it.

Even if it means killing every single person who has ever set foot in this studio.

Because _I am **real**_.


End file.
